


I've Got My Love to Keep Me Warm

by Delphi



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra, Jeeves - P. G. Wodehouse
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, Established Relationship, M/M, Master/Servant, Romance, Service
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-18
Updated: 2012-08-18
Packaged: 2017-11-12 09:18:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/489259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Delphi/pseuds/Delphi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Not every day in the life of Bae Wusata involves disastrous engagements or scrapes at the gentlemen's club, but that doesn't mean his marvellous valet is any less essential in between emergencies.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I've Got My Love to Keep Me Warm

It occurs to me now and again, as these things will, that if you were only familiar with the life of one Bae Wusata through the likes of _My Man Ji_ or _Aunt Ae-Cha Speaks Her Mind_ , you would think that I lived in a constant state of emergency. This is because the narrative art requires a point of excitement. It would be dashed dull if a fellow abused his privilege as a writer to inflict the banalities of his everyday life on his readers. So as you might guess, Ji is not always dragging yours truly out of the soup, or sidestepping the plots of interfering aunts, or reuniting Bingo Li with his girl of the moment. Some days, most days in fact, go very smoothly—but that doesn't mean that Ji and his enormous sea-prune-fed brains aren't a constant marvel nonetheless. 

He is indispensable, whether saving a young gentleman from the clutches of matrimony or pouring said y.g. the perfect glass of soju, neat. I would be quite lost without him, and his efforts are instrumental in keeping a smile on the old Wusata visage.

Consider yesterday, which was more or less a typical sort of day. I awoke at a leisurely point of the morning to the expectant, well-oiled sounds of a breakfast nearly done. I put on my dressing gown and attended to a few of the regular ablutions to the accompanying sizzle of a pan and the gentle clink of dishes, and I presented myself to the breakfast table just in time to be joined by the tray.

Despite my own mild disarray, Ji and the table were impeccably dressed. A man had to get up very early indeed to catch Ji with his trousers down, or to catch the table without a perfectly cut maiden lily fresh in the vase. Ji uncovered a fragrant spread of congee and smoked pork, with a pot of green tea. 

"Good morning, Ji," I said as he poured the g.t.

"Good morning, sir," Ji replied, his hand passing in a little wave over the cup to disperse the steam.

Ji never makes a cup of tea that a young gentleman still getting his bearings might burn his tongue on. He would never admit it, but it is a point of pride, and I must say it does not go unnoticed. 

When breakfast and the perfect cup of tea had been dealt with, I passed the morning in the idle catch-up and half-improving leisure owed to quiet days. Letters were written as Ji tidied up the sitting room. ("How many esses are there in 'copacetic', Ji?" "If you look very closely, I think you'll find that there aren't any, sir.") Then I tooled about on the zheng while Ji stood by in polite appreciation, turning the pages of the sheet music. Finally, I looked out the window as the afternoon dawned and decided that a walk would be just the thing. 

"I think," I said, "that a walk would be just the thing."

Ji did not lower himself to tutting, but he regarded me with a particular sideways expression that I would like to think he perfected in my employ.

"Might I suggest delaying your walk until after the rain, sir?"

I peered up at the sky. It was a very blue sky, with only a few wisps of white cloud above and a small herd of fluffier specimens in the distance.

"But it's not raining!" I cried.

"Not yet, sir."

I smiled at him indulgently. "Nonsense, Ji. I'll only take a jaunt around the park. Back in a tick." 

There was the impression of a sigh on his face, but his mouth and shoulders remained unmoved. "If you insist, sir."

There was an umbrella waiting obtrusively by the door by the time I had put on my overcoat and shoes, but I staunchly ignored it and set out into the afternoon sunshine. It was a topping spring day in the old metrop. A warm breeze waltzed down the streets, sweeping me along to where other idle amblers were taking in the scenery. 

I made a full trip around the park, stopping only to purchase a skewer of coconut dumplings and to gaze with proper law-abiding admiration at the statue of Avatar Aang, whose bald head was at the moment sorely lacking a stolen police officer's helmet. That was when I heard the first rumble of thunder. I looked up just in time for a fat drop of water to hit me squarely between the eyes.

"Oh, bother," I said feebly.

By the time I returned to the flat, the rain was coming down by the barrel. My shoes squelched pitiably as I climbed the stairs, and a residual patter of rainfall dripped from the brim of my hat. I slunk inside with the careless pretence of a cat who'd been missing two days and had come back filthy. 

The bath was already running. 

"Sir," Ji said neutrally, and I let him take my coat and hat. He knelt down to remove my shoes and socks and then herded me into the bathroom, where he took away the rest of my sodden clothes. He offered no reproach, but his distaste was evident as he whisked the wet things off to the hamper. 

I climbed into the bathtub and sank into the water. Ji is as talented with a tub as he is with a cup of tea, and the temperature was just hot enough to thaw the Wusata corpus without scalding the chillier bits. Within moments, I was pink as a prawn. Ji returned just in time to turn off the tap before the water climbed too high, and then he presented me with a much-needed glass of soju and a gasper, which he lit with a flick of his fingertip.

My nerves were steadied by the proper application of drink and smoke, and when I had finished, Ji set aside the glass and ashtray, rolled up his sleeves, and picked up the flannel. I reclined with a happy exhalation as he chased the last chill from the tips of my ears, rubbing them gently between the folds of the flannel before stroking my neck and shoulders and chest. Then his hand slipped beneath the water line, and what followed was bally wonderful but not fit for putting on paper, even in private recollection.

I can, however, vouch that by the time he was done, I had sunk down in limp pleasure until the water touched my chin, and I was warm from fingers to toes. A silly sort of smile had spread across my face, and all thoughts of rain had been forgotten. 

"Much obliged, Ji," I said with the utmost gratitude, and with a note of apology in my voice for having doubted his wisdom. 

Ji himself was still the picture of propriety. Not a hair was out of place, and not a drop of water had marred his shirt despite some rather impressive splashing on my part. It was only when I peeked over the edge of the tub that I saw, if you will, a slight deviation in the usually impeccable line of his trousers.

"My pleasure, sir," he said, and the corners of his mouth turned up ever so slightly—satisfied, I'm sure, at having saved the day yet again.


End file.
